“You are so annoying sometimes. I hope I don’t regret this.” Delah sighed in defeat, even as a small grin quirked the side of her mouth.
Thick fog huddledin the corners of the stone walls we passed. Shadows mingled with the smells of rubbish and damp earth. Delah and I moved as close to the darkness as we could, homing in on a Glint house outside the Oleander district. It felt good to be out in the streets with her, pushing back the darkness in our own way.
Glint was the drug that connected all levels of society. In large quantities, it was hallucinogenic—the quintessential party drug for the wealthy. For the underprivileged, the enticement ofnumbness and reprieve from squalor was too much. I hated how our city was built in such a way that the line between wealth and poverty had stretched into an insurmountable chasm.
We weaved through the darkened streets, stepping over puddles and waste that collected in scattered heaps. The few people we encountered kept their faces drawn deep in the hoods of their cloaks, desiring to avoid us as much as we did them. Dim lights illuminated the entryways of crumbling facades. Delah checked her map before pulling me down a side street.
“The house is up ahead. We need to get in, secure the Glint, and then we’re out. Got it?” Delah shifted on her feet, antsy.
We kept our hoods up, two reapers in the dark. The deep thrum of music interrupted the stillness of the evening. We approached a nondescript door and pushed it open. Within the dark hall, the stench of mold assaulted my senses. The further we walked into the hovel, the louder the music became. We turned into a large open room, stopping at the entrance.
My eyes widened as I took in the scene. Men and women lay limp and disoriented atop every piece of furniture in the room. A child played in a corner. The saccharine smell of Glint sagged thick in the air. A man turned our way and sauntered over, his pupils dilated. “What brings you ladies here this evening?” he drawled, the golden remnants of Glint sparkling on his shirt as if he’d wiped his hands all over himself.
I let Delah lead as I continued scanning the room.
“We want three tags of Glint,” she confidently responded, using the correct slang. The man took his time appraising us. “We have plenty of coin.” She pulled out a bag, jingling it in emphasis. The man fixated on it.
“Wait here,” he directed, then heavily turned away. A twitch rippled across his torso.
There were moans as people spasmed and attempted to move their lethargic bodies. I walked over to a young woman whosehollow eyes dragged toward me. “My magic,” she wheezed. “They took it.” She attempted to lift her arm but dropped it promptly, seemingly losing all energy in the process.
My shoulders tensed as my magic pulsed, on high alert. Something wasn’t right here. The fine hairs on my arm prickled with unease. I had observed Glint in action before, but this was something else. “How much did you take?” I asked the woman. She didn’t register that she’d heard my question. My eyes met Delah’s, whose concerned expression mirrored my own.
The child in the corner paused his nonsensical chatter and peered directly at me. His sharp gaze froze me in place. “Scourge,” he whispered. I shook my head in a pleading warning.
“Scourge!” he yelled. He jumped up, pointing, electricity shooting from his open palm. It hit a man on the floor, his back leaning against one of the few chairs. The man’s eyes profusely watered as his body seized in response.
Delah backed up, arms raised defensively. I drew water toward myself. Instinct flared my magic to life as I focused on the boy. Darkness enveloped him, and his aura convulsed erratically. He cast another cord of electricity in our direction. My hands shot up a wall of water, hardening it just in time to deflect the bolt.
“Get out of here,” I hissed at Delah, shoving her behind me.
The boy cocked his head, a grimace melting his features. “I recognize you, Scourge. What are you doing here? Come to mock the plight of the poor? As if your king has not taken enough? We cope the best we can, and Glint gives us relief. Even if it feeds…” He paused, glancing upward, clenching his mouth shut. “Again, What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”
His face morphed before my eyes into that of the notorious Glint supplier, Thorn, the elusive shape-shifter on my shortlist of marks to dispatch. Our cover blown, I wouldn’t get intel out ofthis excursion like I’d hoped, but perhaps apprehending Thorn would be an even better gift to drop at Maelic’s feet.
“No judgment from us, Thorn,” I pointedly stated his name. “Just here for a few tags of Glint. After we get them, we’ll be on our way.”
“I think not.” He lunged, sending tentacles of electricity outward. They swarmed around his body in a protective shield. My sword formed, drawing from the dampness in the air, its gleaming blade crystallizing instantly. My daggers, enforced with Berine, would absorb some of his electrical magic. I drew one from my thigh holster with my opposite hand and threw it at his arm. He jolted, snarling as he grabbed his bicep.
The electricity flickered with his back step, and I seized the opening. Manacles of magicked ice formed around his ankles and wrists. I decreased their temperature to well below freezing, burning his exposed flesh. He dropped to his knees.
His electricity guttered. A bubble of water encased his hands as protection against his electrical magic. Should he try to unleash it, it would only serve to electrocute him instead.
I stomped over and grabbed him by the hair. My sword threatened his exposed throat. “Get up.” Delah hovered near the exit. I eyed her. “Let’s go.”
She gawked at me, her eyes darting around the room. “I need those vials. And, Rue, some of these people are dying. We have to do something.” The bodies littered around the room exhibited the effects of overused magic. Yet this was not a voluntary draining of their affinity. If Glint siphoned most of their magic, then they would soon stop breathing.
I glared down at Thorn, making sure my affinity securely confined him. “Five minutes. I’ll help you get the Glint. There’s nothing we can do for these people, though. There is no antidote.” I hated that truth.
Delah searched the room for any leftover vials. She found one that was half full, its contents swirling inside. I ran to the back area where our original informant ran off to. The acrid stench of Glint overwhelmed me—a mixture of sugared syrup with the acidic sharpness of vinegar and shattered glass. A sharp headache pierced my skull. I reached for the wall, stabilizing myself. More had to be here somewhere. A glow from under a nearby door caught my attention.
I hastily lunged toward it, pushing the door open without regard for what lay beyond. Several wealthy-looking men hopped to their feet. Tags of Glint tinkled to the floor. I wielded my water into a cyclone. They backed up immediately, giving me an opportunity to grab wayward vials. I stuffed four into the satchel at my waist, bolting back out the door before the cyclone collapsed.
Thorn lay motionless on the floor where I left him. Delah kept cautious watch over him. “I have the vials. We leave. Now.” I reached for Thorn.
“Rue!” Delah gasped. “What are you doing? You can’t bring him.”
“I’ll keep him in the stables, and he’s thoroughly disarmed.” I gave her a wolfish smile as she cast furtive glances around the room.
